Symmetry: cancellation and closure
Down,
down I come like glistering Phaeton,
Wanting
the manage of unruly jades. (III.3.178-9)
Mount,
mount, my soul. Thy seat is up on high
Whilst
my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.
l(V.5.111)
--
the culmination of a long and painful divorce between the king’s two bodies.